


Asphyxiophilia

by crackinois



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Rizzles, asphyxiophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackinois/pseuds/crackinois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An intriguing case prompts the exchange of tightly guarded fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asphyxiophilia

“Don’t - ” Maura held out her hand to stop the crime scene tech from switching on the room’s lights. She needed to see the room as the victim had; feel the room as the victim had.

There was enough light to see. One bedside lamp and another on the dresser at the opposite end of the room were illuminated with soft bulbs and cast a subtle glow on the dark ochre walls. Candles that had burned out hours ago were scattered across other surfaces, the faintest hint of berry and vanilla still hung in the air. There were shades on the window that kept the room eerily dark despite the glaring noon sun.

Maura walked around the room, noting all the details to the flash and snap of the tech’s camera. Typically the scene would be for the detectives to sort out, but the circumstances intrigued her. In this case the physical world around the victim would likely prove more helpful than her autopsy in determining if there was foul play.

“Use the ladder and get some photos of the apparatus before we take her down,” she instructed. Phil snapped away to her instructions, checking every few frames to ensure he was catching all the desired angles.

As the tech climbed down Maura moved to ascend the ladder herself, brushing off the protests from her team as she climbed up a couple of rungs until she was at the same height as the victim. She swept the cascade of blonde curls draping down the victim’s shoulder aside to inspect the noose around the young woman’s neck. Her eyes traveled up the repelling cord to the rigging apparatus that had obviously been thoughtfully planned and screwed into the ceiling. A dark tapestry hung freely from behind the setup, no doubt used to cover it when not in use. She cocked her head. Down the hall Maura could hear the formality of the detectives checking in as they approached the scene.

“JE-SUS!” Jane blurted out as she entered.

“Whoa! What the…” Frost scratched at his head, face contorted in disbelief. _Unreal_. 

Jane glared at the crime scene tech and pointed at the ladder instructing him to steady it as Maura climbed down. “Careful, Maura,” she added as she extended one hand to her friend as the other instinctively reached for the small of Maura’s back to assist her descent.

“Thank you,” Maura flashed a smile, but tempered it quickly.

Jane looked the victim up and down and glanced around the room, “So, what do we got? Some kind of kinky sex game gone wrong?”

Furrowing her brow and tilting her head to momentarily look at the victim Maura then returned her attention to Jane, “This type of sex play may fall statistically outside the realm of the average individual’s sexual preferences but what is normal or kinky, to use your phrasing, is really quite relative to the individual…”

“Really? Maura.” Jane arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think stringing yourself up from the ceiling of your bedroom qualifies as a little off the wall?”

“Everyone has fantasies, Jane,” Maura countered with a one-sided smirk and a near wink.

Frost watched the exchange with his usual amusement, “Well, you can mark this one off my list.”

Maura cleared her throat and refocused on the victim, “The scene is suggestive of asphyxiophilia…” she paused, waiting for it…it had, in a way, become almost entertaining for her.

“In English please?” Jane huffed. _I swear she does this on purpose_.

“Autoerotic asphyxiation, or breath play, the intentional restriction of oxygen to the brain to augment sexual arousal. The same principle behind those who extol intercourse at high altitudes, a decrease in oxygen levels can incite feelings of excitement, euphoria and an intensification of physical sensations…”

Jane crossed her arms as she blushed, “Yes, thank you, Maura. I think we’ve all heard of the mile high club. She’s naked, hanging from what looks like a very professional setup and there’s a…um…you know…” she cleared her throat, “dildo…vibrator, whatever on the bed.”

Her friend’s somewhat prudish behavior when it came to discussing matters of pleasure in public never ceased to tickle Maura, she tried to hide the grin that was creeping up on her. “It could very well have been staged. I’ll have to confirm cause of death.” Maura turned to the techs, “I want the rope in one piece to check for trace or tampering and leave it attached to her so that we can examine the knots.”  
**  
**  
It was easy to get lost in her work, to lose all sense of time; one hour could just as easily have been five or more. Maura rested her chin on her hand as she scrolled through the articles on the computer, “Fascinating,” she mumbled. So engrossed in her research she didn’t hear the soft creak of the morgue doors as they swung open.

“What’s fascinating?” Jane asked from behind her.

“Oh! Jane,” Maura laughed, “You startled me. Did you know the first recorded cases of asphxiophilia date back to the 1600s, and may have been used as a sexual technique to treat erectile dysfunction in response to observations of male hanging victims developing erections?”

Jane’s eyes widened and she crinkled her nose, “I did not…and, eww.” She walked over to the victim, “But that’s our C.O.D.?”

Maura nodded and joined her, “Yes, ligature marks on the neck are consistent with the rope we found the victim hanging by and cause of death is asphyxiation.”

“I just don’t understand this,” Jane mused, cutting Maura off before she could respond, “I know, I know, everyone has fantasies,” she punctuated the word with air quotes, “but…I don’t know, this just seems extreme.”

“Potentially dangerous, yes,” Maura agreed, “especially if practiced alone.” She donned a glove and pointed to the victim’s neck, “The carotid arteries, here, on either side of the neck carry oxygen-rich blood from the heart to the brain. When these are compressed and the brain is deprived of oxygen a person can become light-headed, almost giddy, in some cases semi-hallucinogenic. This has been noted to increase pleasure during sex and orgasm and the desire for the rush can be highly addictive. If practiced with a partner, the other individual would be able to see and intervene if the asphyxiation was too severe. When practiced alone, an individual will often rig a self-help release…” Maura lifted the noose and adjoining cord, now removed from the victim, “…such as this.”

“She wasn’t able to pull it?” Jane scowled as she shook her head.

“Presence of epithelials on the release indicates she tried. It wasn’t tied properly. Her blood-alcohol content was over twice the legal limit. Extreme inebriation could have interfered with her assessment of the rigging’s safety.” Maura placed the rope back in the evidence bag.

Jane nodded, “Roommate was out last night, that’s who found her, alibi checks out. No signs of forced entry. Sexual assault?” Maura shook her head, no. “She just broke up with her boyfriend a week ago. We rounded him up; he was at his father’s birthday party last night and then out with some buddies afterwards, said that they had installed the contraption themselves. He said she called him all week wanting to get back together…”

Maura let the sheet slowly cover the body, “She…must have just been lonely. For now, all signs point to accidental death. I’ll note it as such unless you have any reservations…”

“Sounds appropriate,” Jane turned to leave and stopped, her hand on the door, “Shift’s almost up. Want to grab a drink?”  
**  
**

Frost laughed into his beer, “Nah, the Doc’s right, I mean, everyone has fantasies, right? That’s totally natural. Evidently some are a little weirder than others…”

Maybe it was the couple of beers she had, or maybe the opportunity was just too good, taboo topic couched in the trappings of a case but Jane felt emboldened. “Ok, ok, Mr. Smooth Operator, what’s your kinky fantasy then?”

Frost cleared his throat, taking another swig of his brew, he glanced from Jane to Maura and his voice lowered as he puffed up his chest, “That’s, uh, easy. All guys have the same fantasy.”

“Oh, really?” Jane countered with sarcasm.

Maura giggled under her breath as she caught Jane’s eye, “That is…highly unlikely.”

Frost shook his head, “Two girls at one time. Ask any dude in here. Frankie!” Frost called out to Jane’s little brother who was perched on a bar stool with some of his patrol buddies.

He sauntered over, drink in hand, “What’s up?”

“In the interest of…” Frost looked at Maura, “…science. Your ultimate sex fantasy?”

A momentary cock of his eyebrow but Frankie laughed and blurted out, “Easy, two girls at one time,” before Jane could even protest.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Jane moaned, shooing her brother away.

“Too much to drink Rizzoli?” Korsak laughed as he slid into the booth.

A cheshire grin spread across Frost’s face, “Impromptu poll. Korsak, when you were young and you know, actually cared about sex…”

“Hey!” the older detective protested.

Frost laughed and continued, “Sex fantasy?”

Korsak snorted, taking a long draw off his beer as he glanced around the table, “Two girls at one time.”

“I rest my case,” Frost shrugged.

Maura shook her head, swirling her wine around the glass before taking a dainty sip, “Your sample size is hardly sufficient for a statistically significant conclusion.”

“I could keep going…” Frost pointed to all the men in the bar.

Jane held up her hand, “Please! Don’t. Because there’s some outlier in here who has something way worse in mind and then we’ll never be able to look him in the eye again,” she chuckled, downing the last of her pint. “Anyway, it’s been a long day I should get going.”  
**  
**  
Jane stared out the passenger’s window of Maura’s car at the spotlight illuminations from the street lamps and the stragglers on the sidewalk in various stages of coming and going for the night. She couldn’t get the question out of her mind and she knew she shouldn’t ask, knew that Maura was nothing if not always totally honest and that what she might hear might…well, might be more than what she needed to hear.

Maura glanced over at her, noted the furrow in her brow indicative of thought, “You’re uncharacteristically non-communicative, judging by your facial contortions I would hazard...”

“What’s yours?” The words just tumbled out, overflow, cresting the top of a container that couldn’t hold it any longer and spilling all over. Jane waved her hands dramatically, “Nevermind, you don’t have to answer that. Forget I even said it.”

The car pulled to a stop at the red light and Maura’s hands tightened noticeably around the steering wheel, “You really want to know?” She didn’t look at Jane, kept her eyes focused on the light and the street ahead.

Jane stole a sideways look in her direction; “Sort of…” the answer was quiet, very nearly timid.

“I have this recurring dream. I’m blindfolded and tied up and I didn’t see who tied me up and she doesn’t speak, but I know who she is…” Maura paused as she brought the car to a stop outside of Jane’s apartment. Her heartbeat seemed erratic and the admission incited a degree of disorientation. _Don’t ask anymore, please_.

“She?” Jane was staring at her full on now as Maura nodded, keeping her eyes mostly forward but glancing nervously at the woman beside her. “You know who it is…is she real, like some real person you fantasize about or some made up dream person?” Jane felt herself flush and she instantly berated herself on the inside for pressing. It was hard to hear, hard to hear anything over the blaring pounding in her chest that was echoing in her ears.

“She’s real…” Maura turned her head, locked eyes with Jane, her lower lip quivered as she tried to regulate her breathing. Obvious moisture welled up behind her eyes. She had to say it, say it or pass out from trying to hide it. _Say it_. She opened her mouth to speak…

The look. It’s what Maura didn’t realize but that Jane had figured out long ago. Most of the time she didn’t need words to put sound to the openness that was often written across her expressions. The answer needed no further verbalization. “I…I should go…walk Joe. Night.” Jane fumbled with the handle until Maura unlocked the door, nearly spilling out of the car she popped to her feet and raced up the stairs.

“She’s you…” Maura whispered to herself in the empty car, head falling back against the rest as she reached up to wipe the stream of tears that could be held back no longer.  
**  
**  
 _Coward_. Jane paced angrily around her apartment. Everything burned. Anger. Lust. Disappointment. _Fucking coward_. She couldn’t sit, it made the heat between her legs too noticeable and yet it was still the only thing she could feel even standing up. It was the only thing directing her actions now. Now. Not twenty minutes ago, but now. _Coward_. Jane didn’t even remember opening the old box in the closet, her fingers were taking direction from somewhere but certainly not her brain. Only the soothing sensation of the knotted scarves being dragged across her neck and over her arms and through her scarred palms stilled her enough to take thoughtful stock of what she was contemplating.

She gathered the scarves in her hand, a Technicolor mass of discarded gifts from over the years, some still with tags. Fingers ran over the buttery fabric again as she closed her eyes, visualized the blue, red and purple restraints tied around porcelain skin. Ragged breaths and moans beset her imagination; she wanted to see muscles strain against their binding and feel them flex against her palms.

_No more cowardice_.  
**  
**

Jane stood at Maura’s back door, enough of a vantage point to just see her desire sitting on the sofa though slumped slightly to the side having drifted asleep to the documentary still playing. She rolled the key around in her fingers, considered running again like she had done earlier. _No_. 

She stepped inside, removing her shoes immediately and placing them by the door, though it wasn’t her footsteps she feared waking Maura but the return of the symphonic pounding in her chest so loud it had to be audible to other ears.

Stealthily, she set her bag lightly on the floor behind the sofa. Jane removed the single black scarf she had selected as the blindfold and again swiped the silky fabric over her own eyes to test the comfort. Folding it into a rectangle she covered Maura’s eyes, lifting her head so she could tie it tightly.

Maura gasped, waking, her body tried to surge forward but Jane’s grip on the tails of the scarf pulled her head back to the sofa with surprising force. “Shhh,” Jane blew across her ear, watching as frantic and trembling fingers that had tried to latch onto the dark blinder relaxed, eased and then fell away entirely.

“Jane?” Maura asked breathlessly, hands slowly reaching behind her to try and touch what she could not see. A tight, but familiar grip grasped each of her wrists and pulled them behind her head and she could feel fabric linking them together before being wrapped around one bent arm then around her back and over the other until she effectively could not raise her arms over her head.

“Jane?” She asked again, somewhat more confidently though the shiver that played across her skin as two hands streaked lightly over her arms and down to the top button of her silk pajama top belied that self-assurance.

Button after button fell open, exposing her tingling skin – less to any chill in the air than to the anticipation of being disrobed. Warm lips and tongue burned into her neck as the last button popped and the two sides of the top were pulled apart. Maura moaned as the hands from behind her raked up her abdomen and cupped her breasts, nipples already hard and aching for touch. “Jane…” she gasped, as the assault on her neck grew more fervent, deep and suckling kisses claiming every inch of skin she presented. Then, all the touch was gone.

Maura whimpered, tested the restraints with a few futile tugs and looked from side to side, straining to hear where the touch she could not see had gone. The sofa on one side dipped down and then the other and the presence was in front of her and on top of her. Hands cupped her face and a second breath mingled with her own – a maddening breath that felt just out of reach, her lips parted and waited. The kiss was shattering. She was completely undone, utterly malleable to the fingertips gripping and kneading her.

Jane broke the kiss, hovering lip to lip as her hands settled around a damp and reddened neck. Her thumbs traced the veins Maura had earlier pointed out in the morgue, stroking down and then back up before pressing into them.

“Harder…” Maura whispered, her tongue swiping across her aching lips as the pressure increased. Her head lolled back and a series of faint grunts rumbled up from her throat until Jane released. The effect was mildly dizzying, her heart rate increasing as lips, teeth and tongue traveled from her neck lower.

“Oh…God,” her back arched, legs locking around the body between them as a wet, warm tongue began to lave her nipple.

Jane’s hand settled on the opposite breast, squeezing it, rolling the already pert nub between her thumb and forefinger as she honored the other with slow and passionate kisses. Her mouth consumed the sensitive flesh, drawing in as much as she could and sucking until she released the rosy nipple with a pop in order to move to the other.

The body beneath her writhed, sultry moans urging her lower, begging her to continue. Jane settled to her knees on the floor and looked up the length of the heaving body before her. She stroked the smooth flesh, over ribs expanding with each deep breath, snaking over tense and contracted abdominal muscles that she leaned in to kiss. Never had she wanted to say something so badly. Every word of praise that had ever crossed her mind about the form in front of her begged to be freed and yet thoughts of those words now seemed so inadequate for how she was seeing Maura now. Fingers scratched into silk-clad legs as she buried her tongue and mouth into a rippling stomach to block the words.

“Please…Jane…” Maura whispered, her voice barely audible and shaking on the verge of tears.

Pants and underwear were removed in one quick motion and tossed aside. Now it was Jane that was lightheaded, dizzied by a display she thought would never be more than a ridiculous fantasy she entertained in the quiet moments of a dark and lonely night. She wanted to touch every part of this woman. Every part. That which could be seen and that which could not. She ached to be around her, all over her, inside her, an inextricable part of her if it was even possible.

She used the feel of Maura’s skin to still her own trembles, hands forming on each knee and massaging across inner thighs, spreading them. Jane gripped Maura’s hips, anchoring them as she gave in to both of their desires. Tongue sliding through velvet: the intoxicating taste of lust, desire and so much more.

“Oh God,” Maura moaned, rolling her body to warm, exploratory strokes that electrified every nerve in her body. Jane’s tongue teased inside; drank her in. Release. She was so close.

Jane smiled. Maura Isles was panting, her skin slick with sweat, fiery hot to the touch. Her tongue flicked the swollen bud she had until then ignored eliciting cries of pained pleasure that caused the body in her arms to arch and buck. Jane let her lips finally settle, sucking gently as her tongue circled and stroked Maura’s clit.

Every fiber within her coiled in anticipation of orgasm. Jane could feel Maura’s body lift from its state of rest against the sofa, the muscles of her back tensing under roaming hands. No words. Only an intensely erotic breathy moan of an exhale that sent a chill down Jane’s spine as Maura crumbled in her hands and to the adoring strokes of her tongue. She slowed her ministrations, easing Maura down and back until every last flutter, every last spasm had subsided and she melted limply back into the sofa.

Cheek to Maura’s abdomen, Jane paused, closed her eyes and let her hands wander over the damp body soothing the skin and bringing it down. Sweat, sex and the last lingering touches of whatever perfume Maura had worn completed the scene. Jane inhaled it, tried to lock it away. She wanted to remember that smell forever.

“Come up here,” Maura pleaded. Jane complied without hesitation, slinking up the length of her body sparing no attention to its exaltation as she moved.

Lips crashed together again, bruising and domineering yet reverent. Jane paused, letting her fingers wander across the plump and scarlet lips in front of her. Maura kissed each finger as it passed. Jane pushed just the edge of the blindfold up from Maura’s ear, finally speaking, “Will you fulfill my fantasy?”

“Anything,” Maura answered with no hesitation. She could hear Jane’s clothes falling to the floor and then feel her legs being place through something that was then slid up her body. Jane settled back in her lap. “Anything for you. But, I want…I need to see you, need to feel my fingers in your hair, your skin under my hands.”

Jane lifted the blindfold and let it fall to the floor behind the sofa, making short work of the restraints around Maura’s hands and arms as she blinked to reorient her sight. She stopped, their eyes locked together as Maura’s hands reached for her, ghosted across her face and wound through her hair as she pulled her forward. This kiss was different. Slower. More intimate if that was even possible. It was tender. Maura set the pace now, parting Jane’s lips with her tongue, sucking softly on her lower lip before releasing it.

“Thank you,” Maura whispered into the lips she still held close, the back of her fingers caressing Jane’s cheek. She finally looked down and saw the strap-on Jane had outfitted her in.

“I need to know…” Jane’s voice cracked, all the boldness of the past minutes, however long it had been was nearly gone as her face softened. “I need to know that this isn’t just…” she paused, looking past Maura for a moment and then back into her eyes. “It seems like every time I open myself up to someone, every time I let someone inside…they just use me and it doesn’t mean to them what it means to me.”

Maura had amazing strength when she chose to exert it. Her arms snaked around the lithe body in her lap and pulled them flush together, muscles tensing and constricting until Jane wasn’t sure she could even breathe. She didn’t want to breathe; she only wanted to feel Maura’s heart beating against her own chest. One body. Jane closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around Maura as she felt herself being lowered to the sofa.

“Look at me.” The words washed over her face and Jane opened her eyes. Maura let a faint smile grace her lips. “You would never be something casual to me. Do you want to hear how the dream ends? After you make love to me like you just did, we fall asleep and I wake up in your arms in the morning…and every morning after.”

Jane lifted and spread her legs as Maura sank between them. Maura never broke the kiss as she guided the dildo inside with gentle thrusts. She held Jane’s cheek with one hand, thumb circling lightly back and forth as she palmed Jane’s breast with the other. They looked in each other’s eyes. Jane struggled to keep her eyes open as the pressure of release built. No one had ever looked at her like this in this moment. It was more than sight: it was taste, touch, sound and smell in one all encompassing connection.

“Harder,” Jane begged as Maura’s thrusts intensified, “All of you.”

“You’ve always had all of me,” Maura moaned as Jane’s arms tightened around her, body arching and going stiff as the spasms shook her with a furor. Jane panted and gasped into Maura’s neck as her orgasm washed over her and then ebbed, muscles and joints unlocking as the serenity of release eased her down. Maura pulled out, shedding the harness before settling into Jane’s side. Arms and legs tangled in an indiscernible knot as Maura placed light kisses to Jane’s cheek and then lips as the brunette rolled on her side to face her.

“I love you,” Maura whispered into a kiss with a smile.

Jane’s hand settled on her face, tracing every line, “Those words,” hazel eyes opened to their brown counterpart, “were my fantasy.”


End file.
